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August 11 - August 21, 2024
When life hands you lemons, hand them back. You deserve chocolate. —SIGN
Wait. What was it? The pit of despair she’d fallen into? The black hole of melancholy to which she’d succumbed? The bottle of Patrón she’d finished off at two that morning?
“They say the first five days after the weekend are the hardest. Hang in there, cupcake.”
“You know. Throw him against the cruiser, rough him up a bit, and call it a day. Bam, bitch,” he said, throwing signs.
“You should never wound what you can’t kill.”
If you like your whiskey like you like your men, twice your age and from Scotland, we’ve got you covered. —SIGN AT THE ROADHOUSE
“Wait a minute. How spicy are these books?” “If they were green chile, they would’ve been harvested during a drought.” The drier the season, the hotter the chile.
If you sometimes look at people and think, “Really? That’s the sperm that won?” we have a whiskey sour with your name on it. —SIGN AT THE ROADHOUSE
“Raccoons. Squirrels. Mocha lattes. Is there anything you haven’t pissed off?”
every girl deserves the right to have the heavens open up and the angels sing at least once in her life.
Do you suffer from shyness? Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive? Ask your doctor about tequila. —SIGN AT THE ROADHOUSE
they like spelunking nowhere better than in the sin cave.”
They check. Trust me. You do not want to get through the whole process only to be rejected because you allowed your sin cave to be spelunked prematurely.”
Remember when you were little and you’d fall while on the trampoline and everyone would keep jumping so you couldn’t get back up? That’s adulthood. Try adding coffee.
Sun stopped short when she saw him, the Sinister Son in all his sinister glory. Mussed mahogany hair, the tips still damp from a recent washing. Shimmering eyes the color of whiskey-filtered sunlight. Powerful shoulders as though sculpted by Michelangelo.
We are Del Sol’s protectors. Her heroes. We will fight for her and the people she harbors to the death,
wrapping her arms around her enemy-turned-lover only without the sexy times.
“Yeah, he doesn’t see it that way. ‘Cause he’s a guy with a penis and apparently that makes him invincible.”
“Okay, but when you fall to your death, I’m telling everyone at your funeral your last words were Hold my legs. Your parents will love that.”
Someone had been attacking girls on her watch. That was their first mistake. Their second was to think they could get away with it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, tonight’s bad decision isn’t going to make itself.
a glass of chardonnay. Yesterday, she’d sworn off alcohol for the rest of her life. Today, she’d downgraded to DEFCON 2, deciding to allow the occasional glass of fermented grapes past her rosy lips. Or her pale, chapped ones. Either way.
The wine catapulted from her glass and became airborne, flying free for a glorious two seconds before landing on the tile floor with a splash. She whirled around, holding the glass like a knife, ready to cut a bitch if need be. Or pour another. She wanted to keep her options open.
“I’ve always seen myself more as a Scrooge on Christmas morning. I used to be grumpy and last-namey, but I turned a corner and have decided to use my powers for good. And to occasionally call people by their first names.”
What the world has. He actually said what the world has. What an incredible thing to say. To feel. He was clearly as proud of their daughter as she was.
“Oh, trust me, hon, I felt the romance to the deepest depths of my soul.” “That was my cock.”
Sun lay staring at the sleeping man she’d been in love with since the beginning of time. She’d recently become convinced her soul had seen his from across a sea of spirits waiting to be assigned a human, and she’d prayed they would end up in the same space. In the same town. And the first time she saw him and fell in love in less time than it took for her heart to beat, her soul had simply recognized his.
Keep your marriage fresh by writing each other love notes like, “I considered smothering you with a pillow last night but didn’t.” —PRO TIP FROM THE ROADHOUSE
Waking up is never easy, but just remember: the world can’t revolve around you unless you get out of bed.
“Dangling there all … exposed and dangly.”
I’m the type of person whose sense of humor could be described as inappropriate with a chance of ruining family dinner.
If Scooby-Doo taught us nothing else, it’s that real monsters are always human.
Some things are better left alone. Like me, for instance. —T-SHIRT OFTEN WORN BY SUNSHINE VICRAM
“Auri,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I always knew you’d light the world on fire, but this is a bit extreme, even for you.”
If I’m ever murdered, take comfort in knowing that I ran my mouth until the bitter end.
“This town is like Smallville only none of the crazy people were infected by meteor rocks.”
The scene stole Sun’s breath. She’d always been surprised at how close they were, but for Auri to feel so at ease, so safe with him near, it was like someone opened a puzzle box and tossed all the pieces into the air only to have them land perfectly assembled.
